


animal impulses

by clovenhooves



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Ableism, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fingering, Forced Orgasm, Genderbend, Guns, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Kidnapping, Oral Sex, facesitting, kind of, mentions of wartime rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26249050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clovenhooves/pseuds/clovenhooves
Summary: ...Curiously, Nazi doesn’t really recognize the path Commie is taking. Then again, she knows this place better than her; it’s her hideout, after all. Still, she can’t help that strange sinking feeling in her stomach as she sits in the back of the communist’s car. She can’t help but feel incredibly naive, even vulnerable. She folds her hands in her lap, staring anxiously out the window as rain begins to beat down harder on the car window.Soon, Nazi begins to see a break in the trees, and a small stretch of road ahead. She sighs, embarrassed despite herself. She was just being paranoid.However, before the car can pull out of the forest and onto the main road, Commie stops the car.She puts it into park.---Ancom won't talk to Commie. Commie decides to vent her frustrations elsewhere.
Relationships: Commie/Nazi, auth unity - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	animal impulses

The ear-splitting boom of the rifle cracks through the still afternoon air. The bullet hits the metal target dead-center, prompting a victorious cheer from the Slavic woman as she lowers her gun to assess the state of the range; empty shell casings line the soft forest floor, the targets varying distances far ahead of her and her companion riddled with holes. 

“Nice one,” the woman to her right notes, looking up towards Commie with an approving nod. “Though that’s nothing. Watch this.” 

Nazi lifts her own rifle to her shoulder. It’s an old but clearly well-loved model, an StG 44; likely an original from the war. The metal gleams enticingly in the beams of sunlight that manage to reach down from the thick cover of clouds above. Commie takes a tentative step to the side, giving the nationalist plenty of room to line up her line of fire with the target sitting about a hundred yards back towards the line of trees at the edge of the clearing. _Boom, boom, boom, boom_ \- Nazi fires off four rounds in quick succession, and all four bore into the metal with a satisfying _clang_. 

When Nazi looks back, Commie has a grin across her face. Nazi can’t help but feel herself smile back. 

“It’s good to see you back to your old self,” she says, lowering her weapon back to her side. “I hate to see you moping around, it’s unbecoming of you.” 

Commie nods sagely, clapping a large hand onto the rightist’s back. “Of course. And I am grateful that you were so kind as to accompany me here. I am sure that making the trek out here alone would do me little good; sitting out here with nothing but my thoughts and the smell of gunpowder rarely leads to an improvement in morale.” 

Nazi nods. She thinks back to earlier that morning, coming out of her bedroom at her usual time of 6 o’clock sharp to find Commie laying face-down on the kitchen table, mumbling drunkenly something about her _precious Anarkiddie_ and how the anarchist has refused to speak with her for several days now. It was honestly quite repugnant to see a woman of Commie’s strength reduced to a blubbering mess over some petty girlish drama, _especially_ over such an unworthy mongrel as Ancom. 

But Nazi wasn’t as heartless as the other ideologies would like to claim. She took a seat by the leftist and, after a bit of tough-love preaching about _decency_ and _virtue,_ asked if she wanted to join her in some shooting later. Commie perked up at that; apparently she had planned to go out and do so to vent some of her frustrations anyhow, and in fact had just the place to go to get away from the antics of the libertarians in the house. 

So, after giving Commie time to sober up and take a shower, Nazi followed Commie into her car and let the taller woman drive her far, far into a forest by the edge of town. The ideologies were careful about going out into public, and on the occasions where they went out without bothering to adopt some gaudy disguise they tended to stay away from the more populated areas, such as the inner city. Going out to a proper shooting range was just begging for attention. Commie told her during the drive that she had come across this clearing herself soon after moving into Ancap’s home and had made it into her makeshift target practice area, usually slugging along her trusty Tokarev and a few handmade targets made out of repurposed steel. 

Commie’s car sits now a short walk away from the clearing, the rest of the path taken on foot due to the dense brush surrounding them. Nazi found it midlly amusing that the communist allowed herself the luxury of a personal vehicle, no matter how many times Commie explained to her that it was practical to go between a variety of used cars for “security purposes.” Right now she could _just_ spot it from where she stood, a modest rust red compact car sitting forgotten among the forest green. 

Commie straightens herself up, slugging the rifle over her shoulder. “Would you like to try at a few more? I can go collect the longer range targets if you’d like. I have heard what that weapon of yours is capable of, I would love to see it in action.” 

Nazi puffs herself up, smiling at the admiration as she looks down at the weapon in her hands. “I could be out here all day. I love keeping my skills sharp.” 

Commie nods. “Stay here then, comrade. I will go retrieve the targets from car. You can go retrieve the other ones while you wait.” 

Nazi rolls her eyes as Commie turns on her heel back towards the car. Damn reds with their solidarity bullshit. Next thing she knew the taller woman would be asking her to get on hand and knee and collect the casings off the ground. But, relenting, she lowers her gun and jogs forward to pick up the targets anyway. The clouds above looked dark, beginning to obscure the last bits of sun breaking through the leaves above. Would be unfortunate to be stuck out here running around after them if a storm broke. 

When she comes back, hole-ridden targets in hand, she’s confused to see Commie standing calmly in the center of the clearing, noticeably empty-handed. 

“I thought you wanted to go for a few more rounds?” Nazi asks, shouting over the distance. Commie begins to approach, her long coat billowing out behind her. A strong gust of wind has her hands reaching up to keep her ushanka in place, threatening to be carried right off her head. 

“Air smells like rain,” Commie says, reaching out to take the targets from Nazi. “Bad storm incoming, I can tell.” 

Quizzically, Nazi turns her head up towards the sky. Sure, there were a good number of clouds converging above them, but there was no way that anything serious was going to happen anytime soon. Maybe some rain, certainly, but nothing that would warrant packing up and leaving right this second. 

“So you wanna stop?” Nazi asks, looking back towards the leftist. Commie’s mouth is set in a strange flat line. Nazi realizes her gun is no longer resting on the ground where she left it. “What happened to my rifle?” 

“I carried it back to car for you.” Commie licks her lips. Something seems notably off about her. 

“...Did something happen?” Nazi asks, looking the communist up and down. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and yet Commie’s whole demeanor within the past fifteen or so minutes seemed to be entirely shifted. The woman who was looking at her wasn’t the same woman who had been jovially sharing in their hobby a few moments ago. Something in her ruby red eyes seemed far away. 

Commie is quiet for a moment. “...No, Nazi. I just think we should go back to car now.” 

“Is this about _Ancom_ again?” Nazi sneers, the name coming off her tongue with pure venom. God, if only she could go a day without having to think of that skank. 

Commie tenses up again at the mention of the other leftist. “It is of little concern to you, Nazi,” she says, stern. “Let us return to car, please.” 

Nazi shakes her head, burying her hands into the pockets of her skirt. Typical fucking leftists, always caught up in drama. Well, it was fun while it lasted. Nazi turns to follow Commie, crossing the clearing close behind her. Sure enough, she soon begins to feel the first light droplets of rain start to stain her pale cheeks. 

Commie walks to the passenger’s side of the car, takes a quick glance in through the window, and then turns towards Nazi. “Ah! I forgot, I put our firearms in your seat. Very sorry!” She opens the door just long enough to toss the leftover targets into the vehicle. 

Nazi shoots her a quirked eyebrow as the Slav walks over to the other side of the car, towards the backseat, and opens the door. “I think this will do just fine, if you do not mind?” 

“Can’t you just move the guns back?” Nazi asks, only to be cut off by Commie’s sharp retort- 

“I would like to get out of here as soon as possible, if you do not mind. Don’t want to be caught up in the rain if it gets bad, this car is not made for mud.” 

Nazi starts to protest, but lets the complaint die in her mouth. Instead she steps into the backseat, settling her skirt with her hands as she sits down and buckles herself in. As she closes the door, she looks up and watches as Commie steps into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. 

The car comes alive with a deep rumble. Nazi feels the vibrations of the humming motor through her boots as the car slowly manages to climb over the rocks and begin moving farther through the forest. 

...Curiously, Nazi doesn’t really recognize the path Commie is taking. Then again, she knows this place better than her; it’s her hideout, after all. Still, she can’t help that strange sinking feeling in her stomach as she sits in the back of the communist’s car. She can’t help but feel incredibly naive, even _vulnerable_. She folds her hands in her lap, staring anxiously out the window as rain begins to beat down harder on the car window. 

Soon, Nazi begins to see a break in the trees, and a small stretch of road ahead. She sighs, embarrassed despite herself. She was just being paranoid. 

However, before the car can pull out of the forest and onto the main road, Commie stops the car. 

She puts it into park. 

“Um,” Nazi stammers, biting her lip. She suddenly feels very much like a rabbit in a trap. Her hands begin to move towards the car door. “Commie?” 

Commie is silent. Then, with startling suddenness, she opens her side of the car and exits, slamming the door hard enough to make Nazi jump. When Commie opens up the back door opposite Nazi, the fascist gets just enough of a glimpse of the outside world to realize that Commie had taken her to the other side of the forest entirely; a stretch of land quiet and deserted, with only the sound of rain punctuating the humid air. Not a pair of shining headlights or even a stray human voice for miles. 

Commie climbs so fast into the car that she practically throws her entire 6’3 frame into the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind her in one fluid movement. 

Thunder cracks outside as Nazi quickly turns around, hands gripping the handle again and again - to no avail. She grimaces. The bitch turned on the child lock. Nazi’s heart pounds in her chest until she feels light-headed, pressing her whole body up against the opposite side of the car even as Commie undoes her seat belt and grabs a fistful of her blouse, tugging Nazi towards her. 

“Commie-” Nazi can barely get a word in before Commie smashes her lips against hers. 

Nazi goes stock-still, whole body freezing up like a startled animal as Commie’s hands dig roughly into the fabric of her top. Commie’s mouth is relentless, her lips enveloping her own, causing an uncomfortable jolt of _something_ to pool in her stomach. She squeals, embarrassingly girlish, trying to wrestle away from the leftist. Commie responds to this by grabbing Nazi’s face roughly in her hands, palms pressing hard enough against her cheeks to ache. 

When Commie sneaks her tongue into Nazi’s slack mouth, the slimy foreign muscle probing inside, it’s too much. Nazi gathers up the strength to push Commie back far enough for her to reach over the passenger’s seat in a desperate bid to grab her gun, but Commie is too fast; soon her arm is held in the iron grip of the leftist, her skin bruising from the rough grip. Nazi’s arm is dragged behind her back, Commie’s other hand coming up to snag the collar of Nazi’s blouse again to drag her forward a second time. 

Nazi cranes her head away. “What the _fuck_ are you doing? I’m not a fucking dyke, get away from me!” 

Commie fucking _growls_ at that, and when Nazi looks back in shock the look in the leftist’s eyes startle her. Commie is _furious_ , animalistic, her pupils blown wide and glassy as she tugs Nazi into another rough kiss. When Nazi protests, Commie twists her arm backwards at an unnatural angle, causing a wave of pain to shoot up through the joint. Nazi’s resistance slows, any more movement causing Commie to bend the arm harder and harder. She _knows_ the other woman has the strength to snap the bone in two if she pleases. She lets her body go slack. 

Commie seems pleased at this, and the hand that was holding her in place by the collar of her top begins to sink lower, lower, towards the buttons. Nazi stiffens, squirming again, but Commie’s hand hovering over her aching arm makes her pause. 

Nazi swallows thickly as Commie begins attempting to undo the buttons with one hand and, failing that, simply rips them off her blouse one by one until Nazi’s bra is exposed, pale blue and tastefully lacy. Her ample bust, freed by the constraints of the thick fabric, pushes against the rest of the shirt lewdly, and Nazi shirks back. 

Commie ogles her without shame, a hand dipping down between Nazi’s breasts. Nazi shivers; it had been so long since someone has touched her there. Certainly never a woman. 

“Commie…” she says under her breath, glaring up at the communist through gritted teeth. “What the fuck is your problem? Some kind of rebound from A- _Ah_ -Ancom?” she stammers through the end of the sentence as Commie’s rough fingers graze against her nipple. A deep red blush rises to her cheeks. Commie’s hands were workers’ hands, large and covered in hard calluses. She was used to holding tools; the hammer, the sickle, the rifle. Nazi’s hands, uselessly pinned to her sides, were softer, womanly. Hands that have sewn uniforms and baked goods, the way a woman ought to. 

A woman had no business doing this. 

Commie gives one of Nazi’s breasts a firm squeeze, forcing a stifled moan from the rightist. She grabs both ends of Nazi’s shirt and begins to tug upwards, quickly pulling the garment up over the blonde’s head, exposing her pale white skin. Like Commie, she had spots that were marred with deep scars - remnants from war. She shivers as Commie runs a hand over a particularly deep one on her right shoulder, something from a bomb’s shrapnel by the looks of it, though she couldn’t remember. 

Finally, Commie answers her, voice low and raspy.

“Do you know what the Red Army did to your women as we moved through your pathetic wasteland of a country?” 

Nazi stiffens. She knew full well. She’d heard the women’s stories, heard their husbands scream in terror as their wives were taken right in front of them. “What are you saying?” She squirms in discomfort as Commie undoes her bra, letting her bust hang full and free in front of her. She squeezes her eyes shut; she feels sick. 

“Come on, Nazi. You cannot tell me you have never felt the touch of a woman before.” She feels Commie’s hands move to her chest again, holds back the whimper as one of her nipples is squeezed. 

“Never,” Nazi mutters. “I’m not a fucking carpet-muncher.” 

“Who said anything about munching carpets?” Commie coos, and Nazi’s eyes shut ever tighter as Commie leans forward to plant a deep kiss on her neck. The leftist whispers hotly in her ear, the purr of her smug, accented voice making her stomach churn: “I have felt the desperate touches of many women. Many women who were without husbands, after the war. Many threw themselves at me, you know.” She feels a hand begin to reach under her skirt. “And if they resisted...I had ways of making them comply.” 

Nazi shakes her head, opening her eyes as sad, scared tears welled up in them. “No....no. Please. Don’t.” She tries to squirm backwards, tries to reach back over the seat again for something, _anything_ \- Commie grabs her wrist again, hard and fast enough for her to hear something audibly _snap_ as she does so, and pins it back against the car. 

Commie _tsk, tsks,_ shaking her head with the dismissive sternness of a parent. “Don’t resist me, Nazi. It will end poorly for you.” 

“I said _stop it_ , you fucking dyke!” Nazi inches backward fast enough to send a steel-toed boot flying towards Commie’s direction. But this proved to be a dire mistake; Commie simply grabs her shoe in both hands and drags her forward. Nazi’s head bangs painfully on the side of the car, barely registering it as Commie grabs her by her hips and pulls her into a position where she is laying supine and helpless against the seats. Commie straddles her, trying to free the limited room her brutish form takes up. 

Tears fall freely from Nazi’s face now. She feels pathetic. This was behavior unbecoming of a woman as strong as her, just laying here as the taller woman’s hands begin to feel all over her body. But there was nothing to be done. She was completely at Commie’s disposal, and she was fucking furious and frightened and oh-so defeated. 

Commie leans forward, her weight pressing uncomfortably down on the nationalist’s organs. Nazi raises her arms defensively, trying in a last-ditch effort to claw her long nails into the other woman’s face. Commie simply grabs her by both wrists and presses Nazi’s arms over her head, restraining her as the leftist leans closer and closer. Nazi feels like she’s going to burn up and die of embarrassment as she feels her bare breasts press into Commie’s clothed chest. 

“No...please, stop…” Nazi can barely get a word out. It’s shameful. 

Commie’s long, dark hair falls into Nazi’s face as she presses another deep kiss onto her lips, silencing her. When she feels one of the leftist’s hands begin to reach under her skirt again, Nazi’s legs squirm, trying to cross themselves. 

“No! No, fuck, no! Don’t! Please!” 

Commie lets out another deep, primal sound. She rights herself and without warning slaps a meaty palm across Nazi’s face, silencing the nationalist with a whimper. 

“Shut your mouth, _shlyukha,”_ she hisses. Nazi is stunned into silence, barely registering what just happened until the sting of Commie’s palm print starts to burn into her cheek. She whimpers. 

Commie’s hand goes unimpeded now under Nazi’s skirt, probing fingers feeling around until they find the soft warmth between her legs. She rubs slowly, applying a gentle pressure over her underwear, even as Nazi’s body squirms helplessly. The nationalist desperately wants to cry out in protest, but, with the communist so close to her like this, is deathly afraid of what might happen if she doesn’t comply. Like it or not, she was Commie’s prey. She swallows the lump in her throat as her own shame takes over. How _stupid_ of her, how absolutely _idiotic_ to think the other woman didn’t have ulterior motives - I mean, taking her out to the middle of fucking nowhere, where _no one else_ knew where she was? God, could she _be_ more stupid? Authoritarian unity was a fucking joke, and she knew it. This wasn’t Poland-

Her racing thoughts are halted as Commie’s hand reaches _into_ her underwear, now. Nazi shakes her head, desperate, unable to hold back a disgusted whine that quickly, against her will, turns into something else as Commie brushes over the erect nub of her clit. 

“Commie, please, fuck - I’ll do anything, I’ll even pay Ancap, I’ll get you all the hookers you could ever want, just please, don’t-” 

Commie’s fingers reach down lower, near the red-hot wetness of her hole. A fingertip teases the edge of the slickness. 

“Fuck, no, no, nononono, don’t, Commie-!”

Commie plunges in two fingers up to the knuckle. Nazi throws her head back, her tight insides reluctantly accepting the invading digits with a sting that reaches her very core. It had been a long time since she’d had something inside herself, even just her own fingers, and not like _this._

Painfully slowly, Commie starts up a rhythm, bringing her fingers in and out of Nazi’s cunt. Nazi can hear Commie's heavy breathing from above, but she dares not open her eyes. 

“Stop it, stop! Please stop…” 

Commie raises her free hand to Nazi’s mouth, shushing her. “Quiet, _solnyshko._ ” Nazi tenatively opens her eyes, still brimming with tears, and looks up to find Commie _smiling_ at her as her fingers rub deeper inside of her. “This will feel very good if you relax. If you go along with this, I will make sure to make it as pleasant as possible.” She begins to up her speed, and Nazi whimpers. 

It’s violating. It hurts. And yet, against Nazi’s wishes, her body is betraying her. Her delicate flower is growing wetter from Commie’s movements, and a distinct burning rod of pleasure is beginning to build from that inferno between her legs. 

“Oh, dead god…” Nazi mutters. Commie seems to assess her for a moment, clicking her tongue, then slips her hand out of her. She takes no shame in using that very same hand, still glistening with her wetness, to undo the button clasping her skirt shut. This time she knows not to resist as Commie roughly tugs down her skirt as far as it can go in her position, all the way down to her knees. Her underwear follows suit; she shrinks back at the sudden cold washing over her most private areas. 

“Sit still, fascist scum,” Commie commands, and Nazi complies. Commie grabs Nazi’s knees and spreads open her legs, exposing her wetness. Nazi covers her face with her hands. She feels disgusted, degraded, dirty. She feels Commie take one of her legs and grab it, moving her into position as the leftist’s other hand reaches back between her legs to run her fingers gently over her slit. 

“Do you want me to beg? Fuck, C-Commie, I- _ah!”_ Nazi’s pleas are cut off as Commie slips two fingers back into her - it’s easier this time, her insides better prepared from the earlier abuse, but as Commie gets to work Nazi feels her probe deeper inside of her, far deeper than before. This must be a more advantageous angle. 

“I do not want you to _beg_ ,” Commie spits. Her fingers piston out of Nazi hard and fast, the lewd wet noises combining with Commie and Nazi’s labored breathing to fill up the vacuum of the car. “I want you to take it like the little fascist whore you are.” 

She quickens. Nazi’s insides ache. She keeps her eyes shut as Commie continues: “You should have seen the looks on the faces of your women as I defiled them. Just like this...full of fear, hatred, anguish. But you are truly the most beautiful and desirable of them all. I’m surprised no one got to you before me…” The hand grabbing Nazi’s leg releases its grip to roughly knead at one of the nationalist’s breasts. “Have you even been touched by a _man_ before?” 

“Y-Yes!” Nazi cries, gasping as Commie’s rough fingers brush up against something particularly pleasurable inside of her. Fuck, she hates this. She _hates_ this. She almost wishes it hurt _more_. But instead, it only seems to feel _better_ and _better_ as Commie jackhammers her fingers in and out of her soaking cunt. Her face burns a red deep enough to put the communists’ flag to shame. “M-Many years ago... _ngh_...but I have felt the touch of a man. A _real_ man. Not this degener- _aaaah-_ te bullshit…” 

Commie’s grin only grows at this. She shifts her position a bit, straightening her back, and- _oh, fuck_. The new angle allows her to reach even deeper inside Nazi than she even thought possible, and the shock is strong enough to distract her when Commie slips a third finger inside, stretching her. 

“It hurts…” Nazi mumbles, looking away. Her eyes fix themselves at a spot outside the window, the rustling branches of a dead tree by the road. 

“Consider yourself lucky,” Commie pants. Her whole upper body moves with the force she exerts, hard enough to knock her ushanka right off her head. Her wild hair bounces forward, framing her strong jaw in cascading waves of dark brown. “I’m letting you live. I could kill you if I wanted to. I could just…” Her hand moves from Nazi’s bruised, sensitive breasts to the sliver of delicate skin around her throat. Nazi’s eyes flicker back to meet Commie’s. 

Commie looks like an animal as she tightens her grip around Nazi’s throat. Nazi gags as her airway is cut off; Commie, face marred with faded red scars, eyes wide and glazed-over, only offers a small smile in return. Nazi’s legs kick forward, desperate, hands reaching up towards the communist’s wrists to dig her nails into the rough skin. Nothing. Commie tightens her grip, and Nazi’s bulging eyes begin to roll back into her head…

Commie relents. Her hand comes back to pull back Nazi’s arms as the fascist takes several deep, eager breaths. The whole time Commie hadn’t even slowed down her assault on the rightist’s increasingly slick cunt. 

Every deep intake of air Nazi forces into her lungs feels like a direct shot of adrenaline into her veins. It sends a thrill through her, followed soon by a wave of dread. So _this_ was the kind of shit degenerate leftists got themselves off on. The communist was getting into her head more than she’d like, even as she was assaulting her. 

“I could kill you, and I’d have no problems with continuing to abuse your corpse.” Commie’s voice is a breathless whisper. “You look so pretty like this. Knocked down a peg where you and your kind belong.” 

Commie looks down at Nazi - at her flushed red face, cheeks almost purple from the oxygen deprivation, mouth gaping open with little moans and gasps and whimpers, baby blues swimming with tears, golden locks bouncing in tandem with her breasts as her body shakes with every thrust of Commie’s fingers. Beautiful. 

“I could dump you here in these woods and let your body be eaten by the animals. Returned to the earth. Then, at least, you could say you were useful for something.” 

“C-Commie…” Nazi wheezes, but whatever complaint she had dies in her throat. She knows all too well what’s left unsaid, though. That horrible winding in her gut, the way she can feel her clit pulsing with every beat of her heart. She was close, too close- too close for what was happening, being assaulted in the woods by the communist dyke. 

Commie licks her lips, feeling Nazi’s insides beginning to pulse and tighten around her. Her fingers slip out of Nazi to begin an all-out attack on her clit, rubbing it in rough circles that send Nazi into an incomprehensible stream of slutty, wanton moans. 

“Look at you. Reduced to nothing but a mindless bitch only after her own pleasure. Not even bothering to fight me. A real woman would fight me to the _death_ if it meant dying with honor. No…you have to live with this.” 

Nazi only lasts a few more seconds of that, her clit aching with need and her insides squeezing desperately around nothing, before she implodes. She comes with a strangled cry, her juices dripping down onto the seat and all over Commie’s slowing fingers. The pleasure hits her in waves, each one forcing a moan she can’t hold back, eyes screwing shut as her body commits the ultimate betrayal. She swears under her breath, defeated, until the aftershocks leave her sweat-soaked and humiliated on the seat with Commie watching in sick anticipation. 

“Not so bad, hm?” 

“Get fucked,” Nazi hisses, quickly taking the opportunity to pull her underwear and skirt back up over herself. She grimaces at the feeling of the rapidly cooling wetness in her panties pressing up against her overstimulated bud. “I - _mmph!_ ” 

Commie stops her by shoving her fingers into Nazi’s mouth. Nazi it immediately hit by the overwhelming musk of her own taste, sickly sweet and horrible. The air stinks of sex. 

“Suck,” Commie demands, and, groaning, Nazi obeys. She runs her tongue along Commie’s waiting fingers as fast as possible, new tears springing to her eyes as she does her best to lick the leftist clean. She just wants this all to be over. 

Commie, clearly unimpressed, pushes her fingers deep into the fascist’s throat before retracting, causing her to gag. The communist wipes her slick digits against Nazi’s bare chest, leaving a glistening streak of saliva. Grimacing, Nazi tries to cover herself until she remembers her ruined shirt thrown to the floor, and being to search for both it and her bra. 

Once she at the very least has herself covered up, she looks back to Commie, who - much to her shock - has discarded her overcoat and unbuttoned her shirt. It was clear she was hiding a robust chest herself under all those layers of clothing (not like a respectable woman such as Nazi would be looking at that _.)_ She has a hungry look in her eyes. 

_“Fuck_ \- no, Commie, no more, please. I _can’t_. I swear I can’t. I’m- I’m spent.” She shakes her head fervently, buttoning her skirt with a finality she hopes looks confident enough to sway the communist. 

Commie laughs, shaking her head. “Silly kulak,” she says. Her hands begin to unbutton her own pants. “You are not going to leave without returning the favor, are you?” 

Nazi’s stomach drops. “No. Fuck, no! I- I don’t even know how to... _do_ something like that.” She shivers; just the thought of her fingers anywhere _near_ another girl’s... _parts_...was repulsive. 

Commie simply smiles. “I do not mean that so literally. All I will need is your mouth.” 

Nazi can barely stifle the gag that rises in her throat. “Fuck that! I’m not putting my _mouth_ there, that’s disgusting!” 

Commie shrugs. “Well, if I remember correctly it was you who first brought up the ‘munching of carpets.’” She flashes her a wry smile. Her teeth flash, fang-like, with the malice of a cougar’s waiting maw. “Now lay down. This shouldn’t take long; you’ve gotten me quite worked up.” 

Nazi shivers. Her eyes flick around the car, desperate, searching for any possible route of escape - fuck, maybe if she tried hard enough she could punch through a window? - when suddenly Commie takes her face in both hands with a surprising gentleness. 

“Nazi,” Commie murmurs, “I sincerely doubt you aren’t looking for a way _out_ of this car. Into the cold, unrelenting rain? The mass of trees, in a place you do not know, in a part of town unfamiliar to you? And me, in my warm, safe car, can drive off, leaving you for dead.” 

“You- You wouldn’t do that,” Nazi whispers. “You’re bluffing. The others would kill you if I didn’t come back.” 

“Would they, Nazi?” Commie’s grip turns rough; she forces Nazi onto her back with a hard shove, the rightist’s head bouncing against the seat. Commie stands over her for a moment, hands quickly unzipping her pants and bringing them down, along with her plain red undergarments. “Would they _really_ miss the racist, bigoted, violent _fascist_ ? Ancap would not miss you, and I sure as hell know _Ancom_ wouldn’t miss you.” 

Nazi looks up as Commie towers over her. Fuck. She can’t get out of this. There’s no way out of this. Another thing to force herself through, and then hopefully - _fuck,_ hopefully, - she’ll be free of this hell. Maybe, she thinks, stomach sick, if she made the communist...reach orgasm fast enough...this wouldn’t have to go on for too much longer. 

Before Nazi can contemplate that thought, Commie lowers her hips down on top of her face. Nazi feels the communist’s soaked petals press against her mouth, the slickness overwhelming her senses with the other authoritarian’s powerful scent. The lusty, sex-soaked smell makes her head spin; reluctantly she sneaks out her tongue and licks a tentative stripe up through Commie’s slit. 

Commie lets out a pleased grunt at that, lowering her hands to hold Nazi’s head in place as she begins to grind hard down on top of her. “Just like that, kulak. Just stay like that and this will be very easy.”

Nazi can barely hold back her disgust as she feels Commie raise and lower her hips onto the fascist’s tongue, rocking her body back and forth as the pleasure rocks through her. Nazi keeps her eyes closed, ashamed but content with letting the communist fuck her face if it meant she didn’t have to put too much thought into this obscene act. The taste is overwhelming, strong, different from her own from what she had tasted on Commie’s fingers. It’s not _bad_ , it’s just...god, she can’t believe she has another woman’s juices flowing into her mouth like this. Like something out of a bad porno movie, something that should have been burned to ash with all the other acts of degeneracy years ago. 

Commie doesn’t bother to hold back her moans, but under her breath Nazi can pick up the traces of something coherent, something other than the constant barrage of dehumanizing insults that have been thrown the nationalist’s way. 

“ _Huff_ ...h-how does _this_ feel, A-Ancom, knowing that _your_ Tankie is all over this disgusting bigot instead of you...that I’m using the nazi’s poisonous mouth to p-pleasure myself rather than your sweet tongue...hngh, _proklyatiye, tak okhrenenno teplo…_ ” 

Nazi almost says something in protest until the fact that her mouth is uh, _occupied_ at the moment shocks her back into reality, right back into her current situation. She fucking knew it. She just had no idea the communist was such a crazy bitch, crazy enough to do something like _this_ \- well, she’d be sure never to get on her bad side from here on out. _If_ she made it out of this, that is. 

Commie’s movements quicken, and soon she was bringing herself down against Nazi’s mouth until the fascist’s lips were swollen and puffy from the pressure. She could feel Commie’s juices running down her chin, flowing onto the seat, could hear the vibrations of the leftist’s whorish moans and gasps resound through her muscular body, could look up only for a moment to see her grabbing and groping the soft, bulbous flesh of her own breasts in hedonistic pleasure, coming down harder and harder onto her mouth until- 

“ _Blyad!”_ Commie shouts, slamming her hips down on Nazi’s mouth one last time as she comes with enough force to send her entire body into hard, strong convulsions. She doubles-over, briefly cutting off Nazi’s oxygen, until she rolls off to the side, landing halfway onto the floor and halfway suspended against the back of the passenger’s seat. 

Nazi quickly sits up, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her blouse. She grimaces, wondering how long it was going to be until this damned taste was out of her mouth. She can hear Commie’s heavy breathing, her nose scrunching up at the heavy smell of their sweat and sex in the stuffy interior of the car. 

“Ugh. Can we please go home now?” Nazi asks, turning towards Commie - only to see the leftist’s head down, shoulders shaking...was she _crying_? 

“Commie?” 

Commie is silent for a moment, shaking hands slowly buttoning back up her shirt to hide the now shameful presence of her breasts before lifting up her head. Her face was reddened, clearly not just from the annals of lust but rather from a deep harrowing _sorrow_ , heavy tears sliding slowly down her face. 

“Nazi…” 

She leans forward again, and Nazi winces; but this time, she only feels her fellow authoritarian wrapping her arms around her tight. Commie buries her head into Nazi’s shoulder. 

“I am sorry. I am so _sorry_ , Nazi. Forgive me,” she mutters. Nazi can feel her shaking. 

Nazi hesitates - then, slowly, takes a hand and runs it through Commie’s hair, before letting it rest on the communist’s back to give her what is meant to be a reassuring pat. 

“I...it’s...it’s okay, Commie. It’s- we’re going to talk about this later.” She shakes her head, absolutely bewildered. Commie is now sobbing outright into the crook of her neck and, unsure of what else to do to console her, Nazi reaches over to pick up her discarded ushanka and place it messily atop the communist’s head. “There. We...I...Commie, it’s fine. Really. I get it. One authoritarian to another.” Strangely, she feels _guilt_ of all things begin to gnaw at her heart. How absurd - _guilt_ at what exactly, not letting the psychotic leftist have her way with her? _Kill_ her? 

Nazi opens her mouth to say something, suddenly filled with fury, but closes it, thinking again.

They sit like that in silence for a long time. The only sounds are Commie’s choked sobs mingling with the beating of rain hard against the car, and the occasional clap of thunder somewhere in the distance. 

Nazi slowly rubs circles down Commie’s back, confused but silent. Soon, Commie quiets, but doesn’t move from her spot. 

They would stay like that until the storm above passed over; then, quiet, unceremonious, Commie would climb into the front seat and unlock the doors. Nazi would get up and out of the car, moving back only to put their guns into the spot where she once sat. She would buckle in next to Commie. Neither of them would say a word as Commie found her way back towards the winding country road, back into the center of the city, down, down, down empty streets under darkening skies, until they reached the nondescript block the extremists called home. 

And they would not speak another word to one another until the following morning, when Nazi would leave her room at 6 o’clock sharp - just like she did every day - and see Commie, face-down on the kitchen table. 

Nazi would look at her and take a seat. 

Commie would raise her head up, waiting for the fascist’s response. 

“Want to go shooting?” 


End file.
